How to Live: The Manual
by KatyKalamity
Summary: a two chapter piece. lexie/george. i love them. R&R.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: yeah yeah, I know what you're thinking. Where the HELL have I been? It's called high school, people, and it happens to be my senior year. I'm only 15. I'm applying to Harvard, Dartmouth, Yale, NYU, etc. Forgive me if I don't have time to update everyday. So. That's about it for my ranting. Moving on…

Five o'clock in the morning. In the freaking morning. Five o'clock in the freaking wet, dreary morning and I was on my way to work. I love going to work because to me, it means I am just a step closer to my dreams of being a surgeon. But being a step closer to my dreams also means I have to spend another day in hell with Christina Yang.

"George," I said, nudging a lump under his covers with my foot. "George, wake up." He rolled over, moaned quietly, and ignored me.

We are so going to be late.

"George!" I shook his shoulder roughly. Nothing at all. Not even stirring. Enough is enough. I set down my bag, my keys, and anything in my pockets that could be potentially painful and crawled up onto the bed. I stood on shaky legs. I couldn't believe I was about to do this.

"Get up!" I bounced around, trying to shake him awake, hoping my substantial weight would wake him from his semi-comatose state. I figured, you know, it was working, until he used one of his big, surgeon hands to grab my ankle and pull me down to my imminent doom.

Or, you know, the mattress.

"Oof. George!" I half-whined. I turned halfway over to look at him. It was a little awkward, considering, I was lying perpendicular across his lap.

"Go back to sleep," he said thickly, his voice muffled by sleep.

As much as I wanted to say here, lying on top of the guy I had a serious crush on, I had a career to deal with. I tried to push myself up off of him, but instead of staying semi-comatose, George wrapped his strong arms around my waist and held me there.

This I could work with.

"Seriously, Lexie," he said. "Go to sleep. You deserve a day off." He rolled onto his side, taking me with him. Now I was lying on my side, facing him, and his eyes were heavy and as far as I could tell, just as sweet and trusting as the last time we were this close. Which, by the way, was about two weeks ago, when he had kissed me. It was one of the greatest moments of my life, however brief.

His eyelids started to slip closed, and I could feel my tired body responding delightedly about being this close to him and being in bed again. I hadn't realized it before, but I was really tired. I blinked heavily, checking to see if George's eyes were still open. They weren't.

But as I closed my eyes, I felt him pull his arm out from under his blankets and throw one over me. I opened my eyes, surprised. His eyes were still closed, but he had a peaceful smile on his face. I smiled, and relaxed. Just as I was drifting off to sleep, he put his hand under the covers, and found my hand with his. I gave it a reassuring squeeze.

This is so worth being late for.

At least that's what I thought, until George was the one shaking me awake an hour later. Our hands were no longer connected, and my fingers itched for the contact. Now that I'd had it, I wanted it. All the time.

"We are so late," he said, nudging me. Luckily, I was a light sleeper, and when I heard the word "late," I was up and slipping my feet into shoes that were sitting by the front door. When I turned around, ready to go, George was just barely putting on his pants.

"George!" I exclaimed, exasperated. "Let's go!" George looked up at me and smiled. Momentarily, our eyes locked, and I felt a small lurch in the pit of my stomach. He reached back, tossed me the keys I had almost forgotten on the counter, and walked by me. I followed.

When we got to the hospital, Christina descended upon us immediately, looking so livid, she might as well have been breathing fire.

"Where have you been, Grey?" Christina snarled. I visibly flinched. Sleeping an extra hour and holding hands with George was not worth getting yelled at by my resident. "You know what, I don't want to hear it. You're spending today in the pit."

That was something I expected. As I turned to walk away, I saw George talking to Meredith. I felt a sudden pang of jealousy. I wanted to be able to talk to Meredith without her getting Christina to bite my head off, to tell her it wasn't my fault my dad abandoned her. That I was sorry she hated me.

But I couldn't. When she looked my way, she immediately averted her eyes. Today was going to be one of those days that I was going to hate. No matter how good the day had started, today was definitely going to suck.

"Go on, Three," Christina said condescendingly from behind me. "The pit awaits."

My eyes filled with shameful tears as I hurried past George. I hated that he was always around when Christina called me names, or yelled at me, or when Meredith ignored me. It was times like these I hated what I had chosen for my career.

"Lexie," George was following me. Great. Just what I needed.

I stopped, but I didn't turn around. I could feel him standing close behind me, nervous. I could feel his anxiousness coming off him in waves.

"I don't get it," I said, trying desperately to keep my voice from shaking. "Why do they all hate me so much? Everyone at this hospital hates me." Not my voice was definitely trembling.

"I don't hate you."

It was a simple statement. He said it with conviction, like there was no room for argument, or doubt. I finally turned to face him, a single tear slipping down my cheek. He opened his arms invitingly. I glared at him pathetically and wrapped my arms around myself. When I didn't move toward him, he came to me and wrapped his arms tightly around me, as if by doing so he could protect me against all of my stupid insecurities. I sniffled quietly and laid my head on his shoulder.

"It gets better," he said quietly to me. "I promise."

And for now, I decided to believe him.


	2. Chapter 2

Three hours. Three hours of suturing, stitching, and cleaning basically useless wounds that would never help me become a surgeon. I never wanted to see the pit again. Not even to pass through. I would take a long route all the way to the East Coast to avoid this place after today. Shoot, I would go to China so I wouldn't have to see this place anymore.

Beep. Beep. Pager. I prayed it was a surgery where they needed everyone. A huge, difficult surgery where I could watch without having to stitch someone's face. It was George. Well, that was almost as good. I could feel a smile creeping onto my face even as I read the number. He was paging me from the cafeteria. That's weird. Then my stomach rumbled, and I realized I hadn't eaten since that morning in the car on the way to work.

I yanked off my gloves, tossed them into the trash can, and headed towards the cafeteria. Immediately, I spotted George's mess of curly hair. He was sitting at a table with Meredith, Alex, Christina, and Izzie. Crap. This would end badly, I could see it already. I cautiously walked to the table, weaving between all the other tables, where everyone was eating, from nurses to the Chief. I could feel everyone's eyes follow me as I walked up to the table, waiting impatiently for the shit fit that was bound to happen.

"George?" I said uncertainly, hoping this was a terrible mistake, and I wasn't going to sit here. But there was an empty seat next to George, and there was no question over who was going to sit in it.

"Hey, Lex," he said, using my nickname for the first time outside of our apartment. "Sit down." He pulled the seat out and patted it invitingly. Alex smirked.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Christina asked, her face matching Alex's. George glared at her, and I refused to sit. I didn't want to sit here, even if George was here. Meredith looked down at her salad as if it held the meaning of life, or at least a distinct distraction so she wouldn't have to look at me.

"Really, it's ok, George," I said, thinking it was safe if I said no instead of being forced to leave. I turned around to go, but George stood up, almost knocking his chair over backwards. I stopped and stared at him. He was staring at Meredith, willing her silently to look up and meet his eyes. But she wouldn't.

"Come on, Lex," he said, and led me away to another table. We sat down next to each other, and he handed me the sandwich and chips on his plate.

"You always forget to eat when you're working," he said knowingly. I devoured the sandwich hungrily. When I had finished chewing, I looked up at George, who was watching me interestedly.

"What?" I asked.

"You're so different from them," he said, smiling.

"Yeah," I sighed, "Different."

"That's a good thing," he insisted. "They only think about themselves and their problems, and even though they treat you like crap, you're still above it all. That's amazing."

I frowned. "That's not amazing, George," I grumbled. "That means I'm a pushover." I picked at my sandwich, and George tore a piece off and held it up to my face. I smiled, and opened my mouth. George waited until I was done chewing before he continued.

"I don't see it that way," he said, tearing off another piece of sandwich to feed me. "I see it as you're too mature to sink to their level and avoid them. Because you're too good for them."

"Well they certainly don't see it that way," I mumbled, reaching for a chip.

"Alexandra Caroline Grey!" he slammed his palms to the table, and I flinched. "Will you let me compliment you? Please?"

I smiled. "Ok."

He smiled back at me. "Thank you," he said. His eyes caught mine and for a second, I was sure he was going to kiss me. Again. In front of all these people. My heart skipped nervously. His gaze lowered, just for a moment, on my lips. Then they went back to mine. But someone distantly gave a shout and he jumped, seemingly to come back into himself. When Meredith, Christina, and Alex stood up to leave, holding their pagers, George rested his hand on my knee gently. My whole body trembled. He left his hand there, and I was content to have it that way until Alex ran into the cafeteria.

George took his hand from my knee so fast it was as if he had been burned. I pushed myself to a standing position, and Alex stopped in front of me, panting.

"What, Alex?" I asked.

"Your—dad," he panted. "Your dad's here. You need to go."

I ran out of the cafeteria so fast, George said later that he could see sparks fly from my sneakers.

My dad, it turned out, was asking anyone and everyone for me and Meredith, and she was already there, trying to get him to sit down. I could tell from the other side of the room that he was drunk. It was only nine in the morning, and he was drunk. He was tripping himself as Meredith tried to steer him to a chair. But instead, he spotted me and waved me over.

"Lexie!" he called. "Come see your father!" he called, as if we hadn't spoken in years.

I walked up cautiously. "Hey, daddy," I said slowly. Meredith looked at me for the first time in days. Or at all. "What's going on?" I asked uncertainly. "Shouldn't you be at home?"

I should have known better. When Dad is drunk, any little thing he doesn't want to hear can send him into a severe downward spiral. And when he goes on a downward spiral, he decides to bring everyone else around him down too. His cloudy eyes shifted to angry, and I immediately took a step back.

"Why?" he asked, getting loud. "You don't want your dad here?" he asked, letting spittle fly. I flinched. "You don't want your dad here, do you?" he asked again.

I didn't say anything.

"Answer me, damn it," he roared, taking hold of my shoulder like he used to. I could feel my shoulder shift, so used to being carelessly dislocated whenever he felt like it. I still couldn't bring myself to answer. Meredith had moved back, watching the drama unfold.

"I said, answer me!" he bellowed into my face, and threw me from him. I hit the linoleum floor, hard, and heard a crack. My shoulder. Ouch. My eyes filled with tears that I was not going to let fall.

"Oh God, Lexie," Thatcher said, crouching down next to me. "I'm sorry. Are you ok?" I pushed myself away from him, choosing to stay on the floor. But his eyes shifted again, and I knew I was in serious trouble.

"Ok, Thatcher, I think it's time for you to go," Chief Webber was standing over me now, his hand on my dad's shoulder. Someone else laid a hand on my shoulder. I looked up. George.

"Come on, Lex," he said, holding out a hand. I took it and he pulled me up gently. I grimaced as I stood, my ankle sore.

"Lexie," my dad called, looking over his shoulder. The Chief kept a firm grip on his arm as he led him out. Meredith, after a quick look at George, followed.

When my dad was out of sight, I finally let a few tears fall from my eyes. George put his arm around my waist and motioned for me to lean completely against him as he steered me to an exam room. He looked at my arm, bent at an awkward angle, and frowned.

"I did that once," he said, pointing at my shoulder. "I fell down the stairs."

"Really?" I asked, finally cracking a smile. "Why did you fall down the stairs?"

"Well, I was arguing with Meredith," he said, his voice trailing off.

"About?" I prompted. George looked away from me, as if he was trying to decide whether to tell me or not.

"Another time," he said, lifting my sleeve to see the damage.

"But George!" But I was distracted by my shoulder being put forcibly back into place. I bit my lip to keep a yelp in my throat. A few tears escaped again.

"It hurts less when you don't see it coming," he said, wiping the tears from my eyes. He left his hand on my cheek and stared into my eyes. I felt like I was trying to swallow my heart. His eyes, again, strayed to my lips. When his eyes moved down, I let my eyes move to his lips. I could see his head tilt a little to the right, and he leaned in slowly. I followed his lead and soon, his lips were pressed softly to mine. It was so different from the first time he kissed me.

This kiss was soft, comfortable, and totally unprovoked. I lifted my good arm and rested it on his shoulder. When we ran out of breath, I pulled away, my eyes still closed. George stroked my still wet cheek and smiled.

"Kisses are also better when you don't see them coming," he said, and walked out of the exam room, leaving me breathless and my day completely better than it was before.

A/N: Review!! I will love you forever!! Maybe I'll even make you a cake. Everyone loves cake! Right?


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